


Restart

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen, Genderswap, mentions of bullying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-02
Updated: 2012-07-02
Packaged: 2017-11-09 00:41:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/449329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written as a request for dakre, on tumblr, who asked for a story with the Striders!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Restart

“I’m homeschooling you from now on.”

You look up from your gameboy in surprise, and turn your head to stare at Sis in the driver’s seat. She is the picture of calm; her face is perfectly relaxed and, if the tilt of her head can be trusted, she’s focused on the road, both hands on the steering wheel.

“I...” Where do you even start on this? How are you supposed to respond? Is she for real? _Why is she_ \-- actually no you’ve got the _why_ figured out.

Your name is Dani Strider. You are nine years old and your classmates kick and punch and call you names because you have eyes the color of twizzlers.

“Is that what you were talking to the principal about?” you finally ask, because you haven’t done anything dumb enough lately that would require Sis going in to talk to someone at school on the _weekend_.  
“Among other things,” Sis says.

“This is because my teachers are dumb and won’t believe I don’t wear colored contacts and stuff, right? Not because the other kids are jerks?”

Sis is silent, and you scowl.

“I don’t need to be taken out of school for _protection_ , you taught me how to fight _yourself_ and I--”

“--Jesus fu-- _freaking_ christ, Dani, I don’t-- I don’t get to want you to be safe? Because that’s all I want here. I want my little sister to be safe and comfortable and happy, or as close to those as she can get.”

“I can be safe and--” you falter. “I can be safe. In school.”

Because you were _going_ to say “safe _and comfortable and happy_ ” but dang, that’s actually a lie and there’s no point in lying to Sis.

“Are you feeling argumentative because you think this is an insult to your pride, or because you think I’d be a terrible teacher and you’d honestly prefer to stay in school?”

You scowl harder and turn your attention back to your game. This is definitely because you need to focus on beating this gym leader and not because you are sulking.

“If it helps at all,” Sis says, still calm, “It _does_ have _almost_ as much to do with the distressingly low levels of intelligence the staff showed. Also, switch out, you’re about to get K.O.’d.”

“That’s what potions and revives are for,” you sniff, but you switch out anyway. “Are you really going to homeschool me? What about your jobs?”

“...We might have to look into online programs.” You can feel the smooth movement of what is probably the car shifting lanes. “We’ll make it work. Okay? Don’t worry your pretty little head over it.”

“I still think you’re overreacting,” you mutter.

“I had to hold frozen peas to your black eye yesterday afternoon,” Sis reminds you. “For the second time this week, and the fourth time this month.”

“Shoulda seen the other guy.”

Sis actually laughs at that, startled and proud. “Wish I could’ve, kiddo, bet they were a pretty sight. But it looks bad to the CPS when you come home covered in bruises, you know? Especially since the teachers aren’t reporting it in the classroom or whatever.”

There’s a long silence. You let out a low whistle of triumph as the gym leader’s last pokemon falls to your mad skills and Sis hums her approval.

“It’s too bad, really. You could have shown your classmates a thing or two about being a pokemon master.”

“Yes,” you agree. “I’m gonna be the very best, like no one ever was, and now they will never even get to tell their friends that the champion kicked their butts.”

There’s a beat, and then your mouth does this thing where it doesn’t wait for your brain to check over what’s coming out and you add, “But nobody would’ve wanted to play pokemon with _the witch_ , anyway.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you think you see Sis’ hands tighten on the steering wheel. You focus on escaping the gym ( _God, this gym, who ever thought warp spots were a good idea ever_ ) instead of looking because you _hate_ it when Sis gets upset.

“Dani,” she says. “You’re not a witch.”

“I _know_ , Sis.”

“You’re not-- _possessed_ or whatever they say, either, there’s nothing wrong with you, there’s nothing wrong with your eyes. It’s just--”

“--A genetic _mutation_ , I _know_ , Sis, _I_ don’t think I’m a witch I was just--”

Sis jerks the steering wheel and you startle as you find the car screeching to a stop at the side of the road.

“Do _not_ ,” Sis says, levelly. “Use that tone of voice to say _mutation_ , Dani Strider. You are not a _mutant_.”

You give up. “Kind of really am.”

“No, Dani, you’re not--” and then you pretty much _panic_ internally, because Sis yanks off her shades, tosses them into the center console and leans into your space. “ _Look_ at me.”

“You can’t make me,” you manage, glowering down at the screen of your gameboy.

“Yes, I can. Put your game down and _look at me_.”

You do, hands trembling but jaw set defiantly. Sis has a hand planted on the edge of your seat and is _glaring_ at you, and yeah, okay, that’s kind of terrifying.

“What would you do if someone gave Rory crap because his eyes are pink?”

“I’d deck them,” you reply promptly. You would.

“Yeah? Even though anyone who’d be pickin’ on Rory’s probably a grown-up?”

“I don’t care.”

“What if he was giving _himself_ crap?”

You make a face. You are bad at being a supportive friend. “Yell at him until he realized he was being dumb?”

“Would you do the same thing for Ross?”

“Duh,” you grumble.

“Me?”

You say, “What?”, at first because you cannot wrap your mind around the concept that there are people stupid enough to _bully Sis Strider,_ and then because Sis wears shades all the time and it takes you several seconds of staring to remember oh, yeah, her eyes are orange.

“You,” she murmurs, glaring subsiding until she just seems tired and awkward and upset. “Need to realize that it hurts us, too, when you let yourself think like that.”

“Sorry,” you mumble.

“Not only because our eyes are weird too-- yeah, I’ll give you weird, it’s not exactly common is it,” Sis picks up her shades and settles them back over her eyes, puts the car back in drive and pulls back into traffic smoothly. “But because it sucks having to watch someone you love put themselves down like that. Got it?”

“...Yeah.”

Face still turned towards the road, she takes one hand off the steering wheel to pat your knee. “Chin up, Dan. If you beat the next gym leader before dinner, I’ll take you out for ice cream _and_ I won’t tell Rory about this.”

“You are the worst influence, it is you,” you inform her. You pick up your gameboy again. “What are we going to tell him, I walked into a door?”

“Sure.”

“Dude, he’s not stupid, he’ll never go for that.”

“Yeah, well, whatever. Less talking, more pokemon.”

Your pride is not injured enough that you don’t think being homeschooled by Sis could very well turn out to be awesome.


End file.
